


Jealous is the Night

by Rory_Stanton



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2014-04-02
Packaged: 2018-01-04 12:53:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1081251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rory_Stanton/pseuds/Rory_Stanton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quinn visits the New York gang. Things are... complicated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. I hope this is a fun ride.

Spending an hour of her Saturday afternoon sitting in a crowded train station was not Santana’s idea of a good time. “What do you mean the train isn’t late?”

 

“Quinn’s train gets in at 3 o’clock. I told you that yesterday, Santana.” Rachel released a sigh of disappointed and directed a less than patient look at her roommate. “I even added it to our shared calendar. I don’t know why you insist on turning off the auto sync feature on your phone.”

 

“It drains my damn battery and calendars make me itch. Why the fuck did we get here an hour early?”

 

“Santana,” Rachel’s tone was the one heard commonly in places with many small children, “you know how I dislike being late. Leaving early insured that no unforeseen mishaps would impede our being here to meet Quinn on time.”

 

“You could have said that with, at least, like twenty fewer words.” Santana shifted further down on the horribly uncomfortable bench Rachel picked out for them. _From here, we’ll have the perfect angle to spot Quinn exiting the train._ “I don’t know why you’re so jazzed about the Ice Princess visiting anyway. You’ve been flitting around like a demented fairy all week.”

 

Rachel barely glanced in her direction before her attention was pulled away a voice announcing the next train arrival. “That should be Quinn’s train.” Rachel managed to scoot even closer to the edge of her seat peering around as if Quinn would suddenly materialize from thin air. “Should we get closer? I don’t want to chance her not seeing us. Or her getting knocked around by the other travelers. She said that her back was bothering her a few days ago. Maybe we should have caught the train to New Haven and then accompanied her here. I’ll have to keep that in mind for next time. Though, I’m not sure if Quinn’s pride will allow for…”

 

“Jesus Christ, Berry, will you please just simmer the fuck down already?” Santana took a deep breath and tried to reign in the urge to strangle Rachel. “I’m sure her royal highness will see us just fine. And I’m pretty sure her back would be doing a lot better if she would spend less time banging whatever gross over the hill Hellenic Literature professor she’s attached to these days. In fact, I bet…”

 

“Here, eat this. Kurt and I made them yesterday.” She handed Santana some sort of odd oatmeal brick wrapped in plastic.

 

“What the hell is this and why would I consider eating it?” Santana peeled the plastic back and was immediately assaulted by the scent oatmeal mixed with something that reminded her vaguely of the gross wads of chewing tobacco her grandfather always left in a can next to his favorite chair.

 

“It’s a granola bar. Kurt and I made them yesterday.” Rachel’s head swiveled back in the direction she expected Quinn to come from. “You get cranky when you don’t eat. Trust me, you’ll feel better.”

 

“I don’t want to eat a goddamn thing you and Grandma Hummel concocted. And I do _not_ get cra-...”

 

“There she is!” Rachel was out of her seat before Santana could fully register what see she had said, skipping happily towards Quinn. Santana watched Rachel run directly into Quinn, wrapping her arms around Quinn’s neck and rocking slightly. _Oh no, what about her poor injured back._

 

Santana watched them for minute before heading to greet their guest, “Fabray.”

 

Quinn quirked an eyebrow at her and threw a questioning glance to Rachel. Rachel shrugged and mumbled something breakfast. “Hello to you too, Santana. I can see you’re in good spirits today.”

 

“Screw you, Fabray. How’s Yale treating you? Still working out your daddy issues with whichever professor is still capable of getting it up?” Santana felt some of the irritation from the past few days slide away. The payoff of putting up with Rachel’s pre-Quinn crazy was the opportunity to antagonize Quinn until her face did that thing where to vein on her forehead started to pulsate.

 

“Enough, you two. Santana, could you please try to be nice?” Even though Rachel’s initial statement was directed at both of them, the look of disappointment was aimed solely at Santana. “Here, would you carry this for me?” She took Quinn’s bag and passed it her roommate before linking arms with Quinn starting for the exit.

 

Santana rolled her eyes and followed them. _This weekend is going to be just fucking awesome._

  


\--

  


Kurt text to inform them that he wouldn’t be able to join them in whatever they decided to do that evening. Isabelle had invited him to some swanky party. Santana couldn’t really blame him for ditching the Quinn Fabray Appreciation suck-fest she had been audience to all day.

 

_Quinn it’s so amazing that you go to such a prestigious university. Oh Quinn, of course they invited you; any sorority would be lucky to count you as one of their members. You look so good, Quinn. I’m happy you cut your hair again, Quinn. It really highlights your bone structure, Quinn._

 

“SANTANA!” Rachel leaned into her line of sight looking concerned. “Where did you just go off to? Have you had too much to drink already?” Rachel put the back of her hand to Santana’s forehead. “Do you need water? I’ll go and get you a bottle. And ice, I’ll get you a cup of ice. We’ll get you hydrated and you feel good as new in no time.”

 

“Berry!” Santana pulled Rachel’s hand from her forehead. _The fuck was she even checking for?_ “I’m fine. Where did Quinn go?” This was the first time all day that Rachel had let Quinn out of her sight. They had spent the entire trek back to the loft with their arms linked while they caught up. Rachel would occasionally try to pull Santana into their conversation but eventually conceded that a cranky Santana was not someone capable of civilized conversation.

 

“She went to the ladies’ room. Are you sure you’re okay? Your forehead felt kind of warm.” Rachel shot her a worried look. A look that said she was seriously considering trying to check Santana’s temperature again. “I would hate to think I forced you to come out when you’re feeling under the weather.”

 

“I’m good. It’s just a little warm in here tonight” Lunch had been followed by lazing about the loft while Rachel fretted about where they would have dinner. Santana and Quinn shared amuse looks as Rachel debated the merits of different options with herself. Eventually, Santana suggested the Thai place across from their favorite bar. And what’s the point at eating at that place if not the convenience of cheap drinks without being carded right across the street.

 

“This place is so fun.” Quinn plopped back into her seat next to Rachel. “How did you guys find it?”

 

“I applied for a job her. The owner is a cool guy. Said something about not hiring jail bait but he told me to come by anytime. He hooks us up with free drinks sometimes.” Santana downed the last of her drink. “If you can get past the completely cheesy piano bar vibe, it’s not too bad.”

 

“It’s so cool that we can all hang out together.” Rachel squeezed her hand and smiled at Quinn. “It’s like the fulfillment all my grade school fantasies.” That drew raised eyebrows from Quinn and Santana but Rachel didn’t seem to notice or care. “This is a special occasion. I think we need shots.” With that, Rachel was out of her seat and on her way to the bar.

 

_Great._

  


\--

  


“Quinn you’re just so beautiful. Like, you’re so radiant. I’ve wished I looked like you so many times. Your face is a perfect face.”

 

“Rachel, most of this isn’t even really my face. Now, your face is gorgeous. So unique. You’re one of kind.”

 

“Okay lushes, there’s only so much of this shit I can take.” Santana knew the shots were a bad idea. Rachel’s always been a lightweight and Quinn had not inherited her parents alcohol tolerance. Those two had been lost causes after the first two shots. That, sadly, did nothing to dissuade them from taking the next four. Santana had wrangled them into a cab and somehow talked them up the stairs to the loft. Upon entering the apartment, Rachel and Quinn had sunk onto the couch and proceeded to lavish praise on each other. “I’m going to bed. You two try not to burn the place down or anything.” They ignored her and continued their drunken conversation, quieter now.

 

“I’m happy you came to visit, Quinn. I’ve missed. We barely saw each other at the wedding.” Rachel tucked herself against Quinn’s side.

 

“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t visit sooner. School is crazy. And sometimes I’m crazy.” Quinn smiled at Rachel, resting her chin against the top of Rachel’s head. “I’ll be better.”

 

“You don’t need to be better. You just need to be here.”

 

Santana stalked to her “room” and pulled her curtain closed. It was going to take a whole more than the three shots she had to scrub the sap fest she just witnessed from her mind.

 

_Gag._


	2. Chapter 2

 

Quinn woke up to the sound Kurt humming in the kitchen. _Tequila sucks_. She rolled onto her back and took a moment to let the room stop spinning. The last thing she remembered was telling Rachel how much she liked her hair. After that, everything was a little fuzzy. She hauled herself up off the sofa and shuffled her way to the bathroom hoping a shower would help 

 

When she returned, Kurt had disappeared but left a line of coffee mugs on the counter. The one with the gold star was obviously off limits, as was the one reading “Queen Bitch”. With an almost painful roll of her eyes, she grabbed the extra mug poured herself a cup of coffee. There were light footsteps approaching behind her as she took her first sip.

 

“Feeling as bad as you look, Fabray?” Santana looked annoyingly well rested. She didn’t seem the slightest bit hungover. Santana padded over to the coffee pot. She eyed the mugs for a second before grabbing the one that was obviously hers and adding hot water to it from a kettle on the stove. She poured coffee and an obscene amount of sugar into the gold star mug.

 

“Worse, actually. How are you not hungover?”

 

“I stopped drinking somewhere around shot number three. Someone had to make sure and the dwarf got back here in one piece.” Santana was drinking  from the gold star mug as she set to making tea in the “Queen Bitch” mug.

 

“Always so responsible.” Santana shot her an amused look and went back to watching the tea steep. “Is Rachel up yet?”

 

“Partially, she should trudge in here any minute looking an extra from The Walking Dead.” Santana’s focus hadn’t wavered from the tea for several minutes. She finally removed the small tea ball from the cup and added a squeeze of honey. “Do you need aspirin or anything? We keep the hangover survival kit pretty well-stocked around here.”

 

“Please.” Quinn watched Santana wander off to the bathroom. She returned quickly with a couple of pill bottles. She removed two pills from each bottle before handing one of each to Quinn.

 

“The other one is a B vitamin. Trust me, it’ll help.”

 

“I don’t know how much I trust you to not poison me.” Quinn watched the other girl set the two other pills in front of the mug filled with tea. Just as she was about to ask about that, a voice called from behind her.

 

“ _Santana!”_ That was definitely Rachel. The slight whine in her voice hinted that she wasn’t faring much better than Quinn after their night out.

 

“Absolutely not, RuPaul!” Quinn bristled at the name calling. Santana saw the tensing of her shoulders and answered with a quick eye roll.

 

“ _Please!”_ Rachel’s whining was in full effect now and there was a sound that was suspiciously similar to someone stomping a tiny foot.

 

“No, for the last time. Now, get out here. I had to hear you going on and on about this visit for a week. The least you can do is get out here and entertain this bitch so I don’t have to.”

 

“Gee, thanks Santana.” Quinn went back to her coffee and tried to ignore the smirk on Santana’s face. Something about her was just rubbing Quinn the wrong way. Hangovers always bought out the worst in her and she was trying valiantly to control the urge to snap at, or slap, Santana. 

 

“ _Fine!”_

 

They listened to Rachel stomp into the bathroom. Santana laughed softly and made herself comfortable at the table with Quinn. “So, how have you been? I haven’t really heard from you since the wedding?”

 

“I’ve been busy. School is crazy and I’m just trying to get through this first year.” Quinn shifted uncomfortably under Santana’s steady gaze. They had left things on a good but slightly awkward note after the wedding that wasn’t. The morning following their… whatever marked by a quiet unease. Quinn awoke to the sound of Santana stretching. Nothing was said between them, Santana merely offered her a soft smile before padding to the bathroom naked. After they had both showered, separately, they said soft goodbyes in the lobby. Since then, they had only spoken when Santana would yell greetings/insults as Quinn Skyped with Rachel.

 

“I’ll bet.” Santana looked like she was going to say something else but the sound of shuffling feet stopped her. Rachel came into the kitchen with a pout on her face. She shot Santana a miserable look and threw herself into one of the chairs. Santana shook her head and slid the large mug and pills towards her roommate. Rachel’s face lit up as she took the pills and chased them with a large sip of the tea.

 

“Is this a new tea?” Rachel stared down into the cup with a quizzical look. “This is definitely new. What is this?”

 

“Yeah, some green tea and hibiscus thing I bought it a few days ago. It seemed like the sort of thing you’d be into.”

 

“Have I mentioned that I love you lately?” Rachel gave her roommate a huge smile.

 

“You mentioned it last week and I distinctly remember telling you to never mention it again.”

  
Quinn sat quietly watching Rachel and Santana banter several minutes. Something about the ease of their teasing made her uncomfortable. She couldn’t help but feel the need to defend Rachel from Santana’s frequent use of less than nice pet names. Watching them though, it was clear that Rachel didn’t need protection. She seemed completely unfazed by the teasing. More often than not, Santana’s insults were met with a small smile and delighted laugh. Quinn didn’t completely understand why but seeing the obvious fondness her two best friends had for each other did not to assuage the heavy, unnamed emotion that had settled itself deep in her chest.

  
  


\--

  
  


There was a brief discussion about what they would be doing for the day. Rachel and Quinn were still feeling hungover so Santana suggested a day on the couch watching movies. There had been a twenty minute argument over what to watch. _Santana, as I am the one that does not feel well, I feel that it is only fair that I get to pick which genre would best aid my recovery._ Santana held out for a whole ten minutes before giving in.

 

The remaining ten minutes was spent arguing about which musical they would watch. Quinn threw her vote in for whatever Rachel wanted to watch. Outnumbered, Santana sulked her way to through finding Rachel’s copy of A Star is Born, mumbling something about watching Hairspray next.

 

The small futon didn’t leave much room for them to spread out for the hangover movie marathon. Quinn took one end and pulled legs up under her. Rachel took a similar position next her while Santana popped in the DVD before joining them. Without a word from either of them, Quinn watched as they shuffled about until Rachel had angled herself so she was tucked into Santana’s side and Santana’s legs were thrown across her lap. Quinn felt that unnamed emotion growing in her chest again.

 

Most of the movie was spent discussing who could play Esther in a modern adaptation of the movie, Quinn’s reasoning that Esther was probably not a desirable name for a modern heroine was met with a laugh of agreement from Santana and a stern look from Rachel. The second half of the movie was missed completely because Rachel felt it necessary to say that Beyonce was a terrible choice for the part, citing that her vocal abilities did not make up for her abysmal acting. That set Santana off on a tangent that was mostly curse words and poorly pronounced Spanish.

 

“How fucking dare you? How can you even say that to me?”

 

“I’m just saying that someone with a little more acting range might…”

 

“Oh, what the fuck ever. Who? You tell me right now, who would be a better choice than Beyonce?” Santana was off the sofa, pacing out her agitation.

 

“Oh, I don’t know.” Rachel threw Quinn a mischievous smile as Santana paced in the other direction. “Jennifer Hudson can sing and act. She would be the ideal choice. She’s proven herself to be movie musical gold.”

 

“Bitch, do not get me started on Jennifer Hudson. That bitch stole all the glory for Dreamgirls like she was the only person in the fucking movie, up there accepting Oscars and shit. Beyonce is ten times the performer…” Santana continued ranting while Rachel tried in vain to hide her amusement. She turned to Quinn with twinkling eyes and offered a smile bright enough to chase away any leftover hangover effects she was experiencing.

 

“She’s going to be like this for a minute,” Rachel gestured to Santana who had regressed back to yelling in Spanish. “Are you having fun?”

 

“You guys have gotten close?” Quinn realized that it didn’t answer the question but she found herself unable to say anything else. Rachel’s soft smile did nothing to allay that unnamed feeling.

  
  


“I guess we have. She’s a little much sometimes but she’s a good friend to have.” Rachel looked over her shoulder to where Santana had stalked off, still cursing and grousing under her breath. “I can see why you’ve been friends with her for so long.”

 

“Yeah,” there was something in Rachel’s tone that made Quinn deeply uncomfortable. She pushed that feeling down to where the unnamed emotion was quickly trying to make a name for itself. _Let’s talk about something else. Anything else, really._  “So… Rachel Berry in New York? What’s that like?”

 

“Being here is so amazing, Quinn. I just feel like I’m finally where I belong, you know?”

 

“It shows. You look…” Quinn took a moment to search for the right words to explain how much happier her friend looked now. “You look confident. You’ve always been confident but you look like someone who isn’t interested in proving why you deserve to feel so sure of yourself.”

 

“You think?” Rachel angled herself to face Quinn more fully. She grabbed one of Quinn’s hands between both of hers. “It’s not just me, you know. We were all too big for Lima. That’s why we’re here, Quinn. We’re exactly where we should be.”

 

“Rachel, I wish we…,” Quinn started.

 

“Hey Kili, I needs my electric wine opener. Where the hell did you put it?” Santana yelled from the kitchen.

 

“Your nerd is showing, San.”

 

“Bite me, Q.” Santana stomped her way back to the living room. “The wine opener isn’t where I left it and I want to open that moscato we bought. ”

 

Rachel hopped up and trotted to the kitchen in search of the missing wine opener. There were a few moments of rattling and clanking before she returned. “I think maybe Kurt let Tim and James borrow it again.”

 

“Christ, I hate them. I don’t want to go over there, Rach. Last time I was there, they asked me to come volunteer at the Gay and Lesbian Center,” Santana huffed.

 

Quinn could not begin to understand what was so objectionable about a lesbian volunteering at the Gay and Lesbian Center. Santana sometimes took ridiculous stances on ridiculous things and Quinn was just not in the mood to be bothered with her reasoning on the matter.

 

Santana glared as Rachel doubled over laughing. Obviously, there was some inside joke that Quinn was not privy to. “Shut it, dwarf, you’re already on my fucking shit list.”

 

Rachel reigned in her amusement and went over to hug her roommate. “I’m sorry, Santana,” Rachel cooed in a tone that caused the unnamed emotion in Quinn’s chest to swell, “I know you hate them.”

 

“They think being gay is an occupation. Not all of us want to be professional queers. It’s almost fucking insulting,” Santana groused as she halfheartedly fought the hold Rachel had on her.

 

Rachel began giggling again, “I’ll go get the wine opener. Consider it an apology. We both know Beyonce would be flawless in any movie role.”

 

“You just like winding me up, don’t you?” Santana had stopped fighting Rachel’s hug and had settled her hands on the smaller girl’s hips. “Fine, go get the thing and you’ll be forgiven. Hurry up though, I want to drink and watch Hairspray.” Santana separated herself from Rachel, but not before swatting her on the ass.  Santana smirked at Rachel’s squeak of protest and gestured to the door.

 

Rachel huffed once before turning and heading out the door. She smiled at Quinn on her way out, but the gesture was completely wasted on the blond. Quinn stared at the floor and tried to force down to urge to tackle Santana. She wasn’t sure where her anger was coming from but it was increasing by the second. She took one deep breath followed by another. Just as she was sure she had a handle on her emotions, Santana decided to speak.

 

“Alone at last, Fabgay. Try to control yourself, please. I’ve sworn off your particular brand of quarter life sexual crisis.”

 

Quinn felt the tenuous hold on her anger snap. Before she fully realized what she was doing, she was off the sofa and yelling in Santana’s face.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for any errors. I have been up for like 3 days... or 4. I felt motivated and just went with it.

Rachel heard the yelling before she was even fully back in her apartment. She hastened her steps and skidded to a stop when she saw Quinn and Santana in the middle of the living room, squared off on opposite sides of the living area

"Bitch, what the fuck is your problem?"

"Don't play stupid with me, Santana. You know exactly what I'm talking about," Quinn took several quick steps closer to Santana, putting her clearly in the other girl's space.

"You have finally scrambled your fucking brains with all that bleach. Now, I suggest you steps the hell up off me." Santana put her hands flat against Quinn's shoulders and gave a sharp push. Quinn regained her balance quickly and started back towards Santana to repay the favor.

Rachel, seeing that the situation was quickly escalating, pushed her way between them, placing a hand against Quinn's chest and backing herself against Santana. "What is happening here? What did you do Santana?" She looked over her shoulder and gave her roommate a questioning, exasperated look.

"I didn't do shit. This nutcase just started screaming about me being a manipulative bitch." Santana threw her hands up in confusion. Rachel's look of disbelief was doing nothing to diminish the urge to beat the shit out of Quinn.

"Like hell, you don't know," Quinn moved forward again, pressing against Rachel's outstretched hands to get closer to Santana. "It's like you don't know what the fuck heterosexual means, Santana."

"Bitch, is that what this is about? Will you come off it already?"

Rachel looked back and forth between her friends trying to figure what they were talking about.

"I'm not going to let you make Rachel another notch on your fucking bedpost. How can you be this damn callous?"

"What?" Rachel whipped around and stared at her roommate. This was the first she was hearing of this particular information.

"Oh fuck you, Quinn,"Santana hissed. "Rachel, she's lost it."

"Yeah right, you don't have any fucking boundaries. You're a fucking predator. Has it occurred to you that maybe Rachel doesn't want to take a ride on the village bicycle."

Rachel whirled back to Quinn with an aghast look. She shook her head trying to reconcile this Quinn with the one she had left sitting on the sofa minutes ago. "Quinn, enough, I can't believe you would say something like that. Santana is not a predator and the fact that you would imply that she'd only be interested in me for my body is insulting to both of us…," Rachel was working up a good head of steam when Quinn cut her off.

"You don't understand how she is, Rachel," Quinn growled. She locked her eyes on Santana who was once again pressed against Rachel's back trying to get closer to her former captain. "She's just biding her time. One of these days she's going to get you all liquored up and take advantage of you. I don't want to see…"

"Is that what you're telling yourself, Ice Princess?" Santana's voice had taken on a calm, steely quality. "Because, that's not how I remember it. You latched on to me like a fucking leech the second you saw me. You came on to me. Hell, you paid for the fucking hotel room."

"You…," Quinn started forward again, ready to silence Santana by any means necessary.

"No, shut up and listen," Santana slipped around Rachel and moved so she was chest to chest with Quinn. Neither of them saw the stunned look on Rachel's face. "You can tell yourself whatever the hell you want to justify your lady gay urges but don't you fucking dare make me out to be some sort of sick fuck, lurking in the shadows, waiting to prey on unsuspecting straight girls." Santana's voice shook with hurt and anger.

Quinn swallowed and averted her eyes. It was obvious that she had crossed a line. Santana looked at her with a mix of betrayal and rage. She had started them down this road and she refused to turn back. "Maybe, but you can't tell me you don't have feelings for her. You look me in the eyes and tell me that you don't have any non-platonic feelings for Rachel… and I'll let this go."

"Why the hell do you care, Quinn? Why would that even be your damn business?" Santana saw Quinn's eyes dart just over her shoulder to where Rachel was standing. Quinn shook her head once, her chin trembling slightly.

"I can't. I don't want to… just tell me because I can't," a strangled sound left Quinn's mouth as she tried to articulate her feelings. A shuddering sob worked its way out of her chest as she stared at Santana, willing her to understand what she couldn't say.

Santana saw the anguish on clearly painted on Quinn's face and the obvious answer hit her square between the eyes, "Oh, Q, why didn't you tell me?" Quinn only dropped her head and wrapped her arms around her middle, trying to shield herself from the coming breakdown.

Rachel watched them carefully from behind Santana. She had no idea what was going on but it was obvious that something had shifted. Quinn's face was streaked with tears and Santana was inching closer to her slowly, like one would approach a wounded animal. Rachel ached at the despair she could she painted across Quinn's face. She wanted nothing more than to comfort her friend but watching Santana attempt the same thing had frozen her to the spot.

Santana let her hand close over Quinn's shoulder and it was as if a switch had been flipped. Quinn released a choked, pain-filled sound as she fell into Santana. Rachel heard Santana mumble something as she soothingly ran her hands up and down Quinn's back. The sounds of Quinn crying and Santana murmuring words of comfort filled the air for several never ending seconds as Rachel wrestled with the envy of seeing her two best friends experience something that did not include her.

"Hey Rach," Santana's voice pulled Rachel from her daze. She blinked and saw Quinn and Santana still intimately wound together. "I think maybe movie night is over."

"Yes, sure, of course…"

"If it's ok with you, me and Q have some things to talk about." Santana's hands were still cradling Quinn as she sniffled and hiccuped against her.

"Of course, that's fine. I mean, whatever she needs… I'll just straighten up in here," Rachel locked eyes with Santana. Rachel's inner turmoil must have been shining through her eyes because Santana offered her a small smile before she turned to maneuver her and Quinn off towards her room.

Rachel watched them go with a feeling of dread building steadily in her gut. She didn't know what they were discussing but she felt that it didn't bode well for her friendship with either of them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this took longer to finish than I thought it would. My apologies. The next chapter shouldn't take nearly as long.

Santana sat on her bed with Quinn sniffling quietly against her shoulder. Quinn's crying had tapered to just shuddered breaths and soft sniffs. They sat for some time, neither knowing what to say. Shortly after leaving Rachel in the living room, the loft was filled with the calming sounds of some weird atmospheric music, Rachel and Kurt's privacy solution. _It's genius, Santana. The music provides enough background noise to keep private conversations private without disturbing others who might be studying or sleeping._

Santana sent a silent thanks to her roommate, she was pretty sure that Quinn was not ready for Rachel to hear any of what they needed to discuss. In all honesty, Santana was certain she was dealing with some things she didn't want Rachel to know about either. She glanced down at Quinn, she was quietly taking slow breaths as she tried to settle herself. Santana released a soft snort of amusement. _How the hell did we get ourselves into this?_

"What's funny?" Quinn's head jerked up. She eyed Santana suspiciously, not in the mood to deal with Santana's bitchier personalities.

"We're pretty screwed," Santana sighed.

"Yeah, I noticed," Quinn settled her head back onto Santana's shoulder.

"Q, you have to know that I would never try anything with Rachel," Santana shifted herself until Quinn looked up at her. "I know that my feelings are getting all weird or whatever but I'm not trying to start something. She's my closest friend, right now. Britt's gone all Beautiful Mind on me and you're off choking your gay panic with whatever sleazeball professor is available."

"Hey!" Quinn grabbed a pillow and swatted at Santana's head. "You're such a bitch."

"What I'm saying, Q, is that she's my person now. The boundary between friends and fuck buddies gets murky really easily for me. I know that. So, I might have entertained the thought but I was never going to make a move."

"Why not?"

"Because, it's worked out so well in the past. Brittany doesn't remember I exist most of the time and you've barely spoken to me since I took you for a ride on the sapphic express."

"Santana, I…"

"That wasn't a dig, Quinn."

"No, I know. I just," Quinn ran a frustrated hand through her hair. "I'm sorry."

"It's whatever, Q. You don't owe me an explanation." Santana scooted off the bed and busied herself with something on her dresser. She didn't want to hear Quinn's reasons for blowing her off. Santana had been the recipient of Rachel's _Dangers of Biphobia_ lecture more than once but she still couldn't bring herself to not feel bitter about Brittany and Quinn. "It was fun, and it's not like I expected us to go steady or whatever people from your generation say."

"I wasn't ready, for what it meant or how I would feel. I thought," Quinn watched Santana's shoulders tense.

"You thought you could have your lesbitronic moment and get it out your system. No desperate baby gays at Yale, Quinn? I guess it was just easier to try everybody's standby?"

"Santana, no, of course not," Quinn nearly yelled. She got off of the bed and placed a gentle hand on Santana's arm, pulling until the other girl was facing her. "What we did, what happened between us… happened because I needed to know. I had to know. I picked you because I needed it to be someone I trusted, someone I cared about, someone who cared about me."

"Whatever, Q," Santana scoffed. She shook off Quinn's hold to cross both arms tightly across her chest. "Then what was with the disappearing act? If you care about me so much?"

"I panicked. I thought I would feel liberated, that I would be this new sexually free person. I just felt terrified, Santana."

Santana's stance softened. "You could've talked to me, Quinn. If anybody can understand, it would be me."

"I couldn't. I couldn't even think about it. And then this weekend with you and Rachel, seeing how close you are, I lost it." A tense silence settled over them and Quinn retreated back to Santana's bed

"So, Berry, huh?" Santana's irreverent tone broke the tension between them. "I can't say that I didn't see that particular bit of ABC Family pseudo-angst coming."

"I really hate you sometimes," Quinn said with no real conviction. "I'm just going to ignore you. I've watched you fawning over Rachel all day. I can't take you seriously when it's obvious she's got you wrapped around her finger." Quinn ducked the tube of lip gloss that came flying at her head.

"Whatever."

Kurt had received the 911 text and raced straight home. He wasn't surprised, Quinn and Santana's friendship was something that he could not begin to comprehend. It was obvious that having them cooped in the same apartment for any amount of time was going to end badly for someone.

The gentle sounds of Deuter greeted him at the loft door and he knew that meant that serious conversation was happening behind one of the curtains separating their living space. He dropped his bag and keys onto the kitchen table and headed off towards Rachel's room.

Behind the curtain, he found a teary eyed Rachel curled in the center of her bed clutching her boyfriend pillow. For all the fuss she put up about it being creepy, Rachel certainly could be found cuddled up to hers often. Kurt took a seat on the bed and placed a calming hand on Rachel's back.

The tears that were silent when he entered the room were joined by shuddering breaths and intermittent hiccups. "Aw sweetie, what happened?"

Rachel shook her head as her crying became more audible. She managed a few mumbled words, "Quinn and Santana,"

"I guessed that part, Rachel. What did they do? I'm sure whatever it was wasn't meant to hurt your feelings." Kurt adored Santana but sometimes she slipped too easily back into being the bitchy cheerleader that used to torment them. He admittedly had less contact with Quinn but he was willing to bet that she harbored the same unfortunate habit.

"They slept together," Rachel sniffed.

"What?" Kurt yelled. "They did what? When?"

"At the wedding, I guess," Rachel wiped at her eyes and took a few deep breaths. "I left them here to go get the wine opener and I when I came back they were screaming at each other. Quinn accused Santana of being interested in me and then she was crying and they went off to Santana's room."

"That's so crazy, and yet somehow very fitting. Rachel you can't take anything Quinn said to heart. You know how she can be."

"No, she wasn't… Quinn didn't do anything."

"I'm confused. What are you so upset about?"

"You didn't see them, Kurt. I've never seen Quinn look so hurt and confused. I think she's in love with Santana." Any progress Rachel had made towards controlling her tears crumbled. "I feel like they're abandoning me. If they have each other why would they need me around."

"Rachel, sweetie," Kurt brushed Rachel's bangs off her forehead, "this sounds harsh but you're being selfish. If they want to be together, as terrifying as that combination sounds, it has nothing to do with you. Don't you want them both to be happy?" Immediately, Kurt knew he had said the wrong thing. Rachel sat up quickly and glared at him.

"How can you ask me that Kurt?" Rachel shrieked. "Of course, I want them to be happy. I just don't want them forgetting about me. I want them to remember that I can make them happy." Rachel's voice had steadily picked up volume until she was almost yelling.

Kurt's eyebrows climbed high on his forehead as he considered what Rachel had just said. He didn't know if Rachel was aware of what she just expressed but he damn sure wasn't about to involve himself in that mess. "Rach, I think you need to just calm down. You don't really know what's happening between them. You should talk to them and get the full story before you have a complete meltdown."

Rachel's shoulders sagged and she gave a defeated nod. Kurt stayed with her for a while, offering hugs and comforting words. After awhile, Rachel shooed him off to his nightly call from Blaine with a promise that she would be fine.

The past hour or so had been spent lying in her bed trying to come to terms with her best friends being in love with each other. She knew that she had promised Kurt that she wouldn't jump to conclusions but what she saw could not be mistaken. The look on Quinn's face was burned into her memory. She'd only seen such devastation on her friend's face a few times before. Rachel remembered the same desperate hazel eyes begging her not to marry Finn.

And Santana, Rachel had heard rumors of her roommate's softer side and had even been the recipient of Santana's more nurturing side but nothing close to the complete softening she had witnessed earlier. Rachel was willing to wager that only Quinn and Brittany had ever had the pleasure of seeing such a completely unguarded Santana.

Rachel rolled over on her bed and pulled her stupid boyfriend pillow closer. She was jealous. She wasn't sure if she was jealous of Santana for having Quinn or Quinn for having Santana or both of them for having each other, but she she knew the gnawing feeling in her gut was jealousy. She wanted to be happy for them but there was a part of herself, one that if visible would be wearing an owl sweater and penny loafers, that felt the familiar sting of being left out.

A much younger Rachel had spent many Saturday nights alone in her room, wondering what the popular kids were doing, loud parties and wild sleepovers that she was too much of a loser to be invited to. Watching Santana and Quinn walk away had brought all of those feelings rushing back.

With a deep sigh, she rolled onto her back and fixed her eyes on the ceiling. Her friendships with Quinn and Santana and their happiness were extremely important to her. Even if the thought of Quinn visiting so that she and Santana could go on a date—or even worse Santana taking a train to New Haven so the happy couple could have alone time—made her stomach churn, she was determined to support her friends.

With her resolve firmly in place, Rachel rose and made her way out of her room. Quinn and Santana were going to have her full support if it killed her. She strode purposefully passed Kurt's room towards Santana's. Just as she was about to call out, the song playing ended. In the silence between tracks she could hear Quinn and Santana talking on the other side of the curtain.

" _Don't act like you didn't notice, Fabray."_

" _I'm not discussing this with you, Santana. You're disgusting."_

" _I'm just saying, Rachel's always been kinda hot but that makeover Lady Hummel gave her is just complete wank fodder."_

" _God, Santana, can you please stop?"_

" _Oh come on, Q, I'm being supportive. We both just admitted to being hot for the midget. We've got good fucking taste. We should give ourselves a moment to pat each other on the back."_

" _You can keep acting like an ass but I know you care about her. This act isn't fooling me, San."_

The next song started, drowning out the voices. Rachel stood frozen for a moment before turning and slowly moving back to her room. She needed more time to think.


	5. Chapter 5

Quinn woke up with Santana practically on top of her. Her friend had climbed halfway onto her chest sometime during the night and was currently snoring, and drooling, on the t-shirt she had let Quinn borrow. With a roll of her eyes, Quinn gave Santana a push off of her and sat up.

"What? I'm up, what?" Santana groggily propped herself up, rubbing her eyes. She glanced around, eyes landing on Quinn's amused smirk. "You bitch, what did you do that for?"

"I'm sure there's some girl in this city with low standards who would love to have you drool on her but I would rather you not slobber on me."

"Oh whatever. I'm going to go shower. I need to wash off the scent of whatever grandma perfume you're wearing these days. You smell like a quilting bee." Santana grabbed a towel and stumbled out of the room.

She returned 15 minutes later wrapped in a towel, looking puzzled. Quinn raised her eyebrows in question, "What's wrong?"

"I think Rachel might be pissed about last night. She's being weird."

"Weird, how?"

"She's cooking breakfast. Like, lots of breakfast, and there's meat." Santana threw the towel towards her hamper and looked for something to slip on.

"Ok, maybe she's just being nice. No one else is vegan.. or vegetarian." Quinn watched Santana strut around the room naked. She caught herself watching the smooth rippling of Santana's thigh muscles as she moved about the room. "Santana, please put on some clothes?"

"I'm getting there," she said waving a bottle of lotion, "a girl's gotta moisturize, Q." Santana's eyes glinted playfully at Quinn as took her sweet time applying her lotion. "Anyway, you don't get it. This cooking thing is bad news. A few weeks ago I asked her which of her dads was topping the other and the next day we had a full five course dinner."

"Santana! That's terrible. Why would you ask her that?"

"Well, her Jew dad is really tall and he seems a little more butch but he took the black Berry's last name so," Santana said nonchalantly as she finished with her lotioning and finally started to put on clothing.

"Something is seriously wrong with you, Santana."

"I'm naturally curious, but so not the point. If Rachel's in there cooking like little Suzy Homemaker, it's because she's upset. Now," Santana said to Quinn, who was clearly beginning to panic if the accelerated breathing was anything to go by, "I don't think she knows what was up with your meltdown last night. She's probably bummed that we ditched her."

"Ok, so we just apologize and everything will be fine."

"Yeah, that would've worked with old Rachel but new Rachel likes to pretend that she's a hard-ass. In a few minutes she's going to go to her room to get her iPod, she needs her Kelly Clarkson if she's going to go all grown up Rachel. When she goes, you go shower. I'll let her vent on me, by the time you're done she'll be back to normal."

"Are you sure?"

"Trust me, I've had practice. You should," Santana turned at the sound of footsteps outside of the curtain, "there she goes. Go shower, and don't worry, I can deal with Berry."

Quinn gathered her things and headed off to shower, happy not to have to confront Rachel just yet.

* * *

Unlike Santana, Quinn made sure to get dressed in the bathroom. She thought it rude to parade around her friends' home in so little clothing. She walked out of the bathroom rubbing at her hair with a towel. She stopped in tracks when she spotted Santana and Rachel sitting at the table, staring at each other. Santana looked liked she'd seen a ghost and Rachel looked entirely too satisfied with herself.

"Quinn, please come have a seat." Rachel jumped from her chair. She waved at the spread of food on the table with exaggerated flourish. "Would like some breakfast? I made bacon and waffles. I remember you mentioned once that you like waffles more than pancakes."

Quinn glanced at Santana but the brunette still looked shell shocked and in no condition to communicate. "Uh, sure. Thank you, Rachel." Quinn took a seat across from Santana. She watched cautiously as Rachel grabbed a plate began arranging various breakfast foods on it.

"Coffee, Quinn?"

"Yes?" Quinn widened her eyes at Santana hoping to get her attention. When Rachel turned to the coffee pot, she quickly gave Santana a sharp kick in the shin.

Santana jumped in her seat. She looked at Quinn blinking and lightly shaking her head. Her mouth opened and quickly clicked by shut. She shook her head again. "We've got to get out of here," she whispered.

"What?"

"She's lost it. We have to get…"

"Santana, don't be ridiculous." Rachel returned with Quinn's coffee. "We're all adults here and I feel that we are more than capable of discussing this." Rachel retook her seat. "Cream, Quinn?"

"I feel like I've missed something."

"She's lost her mind, Q"

"I was simply telling Santana that I, quite accidentally, of course, overheard your conversation last night and I believe I have devised a solution that would be beneficial to us all." Rachel gave Quinn a smile that was clearly meant to appear innocent and reassuring.

"You know?" Quinn eyes darted back and forth between Santana and Rachel. She flexed her hands nervously and wondered about the likelihood of a giant, gaping hole in the earth opening to swallow her and save her from her embarrassment. "Rachel, I'm sorry. I was never going to…"

"Quinn it's okay. I was shocked but, like I said, I've come up with a proposition of sorts. If you're both amenable, I believe this can be a learning and growing experience."

"Absolutely fucking not."

"Santana, the profanity is not necessary. I understand that you are shocked and a little embarrassed but I still expect you to behave like a grownup," Rachel admonished.

"I'm not amenable to shit. I don't know what kind new age, free love crap you're on but I am so not down."

"Santana, while I admire your pluck and dedication to hiding your feelings, all of this bravado is wasted on me. I do not believe you and I would appreciate it if you would settle down and allow me to speak to Quinn."

"Whatever," Santana shoved away from the table but was stopped from storming off by Rachel's hand closing over her wrist.

"I know it sounds crazy but we all care about each other. I don't see why you can't see that it would be the perfect solution."

"Uh guys," Quinn interrupted them before Santana give Rachel an answer, "what the hell is going?" The other girls locked eyes for a moment before Santana fell back in her seat. She threw Quinn a small, apologetic smile before turning her attention back to Rachel.

"After overhearing your conversation last night, I spent most of the night thinking." Rachel reached for Quinn's hand, causing the blonde to shoot another nervous look at Santana. "I was so hurt to hear about what occurred between the two of you at Mr. Schuester's wedding. I talked to Kurt and I couldn't even vocalize what about it upset me so much about it. I care about you both so much and you're both so fiercely loyal. I should be thrilled that you too have found something special with each other."

"Rachel," Quinn turned her hand the thread their fingers together, "Santana and I are not together. It was…" Quinn glanced at Santana for help.

"It was one time, Berry. Me and Q were wasted and all in our feelings about Brittany and," Santana trailed off, her eyes darting to Quinn quickly

"I know. I know what was happening. I know why you two have been glaring at each other all weekend. I know why I was so upset by thought of you being together. And I think, if we can be grownup about this, we can be honest with each other and see the obvious solution to this problem." Santana released a groan and dropped her head onto the table.

"I'm not sure I understand what you're trying to say Rachel." Quinn's face was scrunched in concentration as she tried to decipher whatever it was that Rachel was doing a good job of not saying.

"I'm trying to say that we are all mature, independent, strong…"

"She wants us to get involved in some kind of freaky, hippie threeway." Santana interrupted. She's got some Sister Wives fantasies and she's trying to drag us into her delusion."

"Oh my God, Santana, would you just stop." Rachel was out of her seat leaning into Santana's face in seconds. "This is serious. Why do you have to be so unbelievably childish? We could do this. We could…" She trailed off as frustrated tears began to gather in her eyes.

"Rachel, wait," Quinn reached for Rachel's hand but Rachel whirled away before she could make contact.

"No, Quinn, she always does this. She is incapable of dealing with her emotions and she always ruins everything." She wiped at her cheeks roughly and gave Santana a withering look. "I need to clear my head. I'm going to go out for a while. Just forget I ever said anything."

"Rachel, please," Quinn called behind her as she marched towards the door, grabbing her jacket and bag on the way. Quinn turned to Santana with a raised eyebrow, "Nice going."

* * *

"She could be gone for hours, Q"

"She has been gone for hours. I feel like we should just go look for her."

"Look where? We can't just wander around the city and hope to bump into her. That's stupid. She'll come back here once she's cooled off a little."

Quinn began to respond but her mouth closed with an audible click when the unmistakable sound of the door sliding echoed through the loft. They both stood and hurried over, meeting Rachel before she could even remove her coat.

"I don't really feel like talking. If it's ok with both of you, I would like to just forget the events of last night and this morning. Maybe we can try to salvage what's left of your visit, Quinn."

"Rachel, just come sit down for a minute."

"Yeah, Berry, Q and I want to apologize." Santana stood, guiltily shuffling her feet and glancing at Rachel through her eyelashes.

"Santana wants to apologize," Quinn gave Santana a sharp elbow in the side before continuing, "and we would both like to talk to you about… your proposition."

"If it's all the same to you, I would like to just skip the rejection part of all of this." Rachel squeezed past them, stalking off towards the kitchen."

"Rachel!" Santana's voice stopped her in her tracks. "Nobody's rejecting anybody."

"We have some concerns, Rachel. We talked while you were out." Quinn watched nervously as Rachel spun towards them, her eyes flitting back and forth between them. "We would like to set up some ground rules and make sure we're all one the same page but," Quinn glanced at Santana, who gave her a slight smile and a small nod, "we want to try."

Rachel's eyes darted between the two faces staring at her intently, looking for any sign that it was some kind of joke. A bright smile broke out over her face and she seemed to vibrate on the spot. A high-pitched strangled noise forced its way out of her smiling face and she flung herself at the two girls, squealing incoherently. Santana and Quinn shared a filled with trepidation, both thinking the same thing.

_I really hope this works._


End file.
